Ten thousand years ago, when ice fled north
And water set Albion adrift once more
The land turned to emerald; great oaks burst forth
And took their place, united as Sherwood
It once was said these woods were home
To outlaws roaming free of feudal bonds
Hunters dwelling amongst the trees
And refuge sought beneath their fronds
A place of solace
Our ancient forest
Then men carved at the woods, 'til little remained
Memories and spirits harshly cast away
Now only a remnant holds against the blight
Yet maybe it will prevail, once we are dead and gone